There are days when I feel like I’ve already done it all and also have done nothing with my life. My smallness in this vast universe has been feeling like a giant foot about to smash me. Not in the cartoonish Monty Python sense but in a more, and very much not funny way. Maybe like the way Charlie and his grandpa are being sucked up into the ceiling with those blades just spinning, but no amount of burping can bring me back down from that inevitability. None of us can stop it. We’re all just slowly floating up and up.

I am terrified of death. And I can’t imagine that you’re okay with it.

I guess there’s some irony here as I’m sitting out on my sunny porch in my comfortable house looking over our newly planted garden full of sprouting possibilities and wholesome nourishment. Gaby and I are healthy, though absolutely middle aged and exhausted. Our kids are doing alright. Our parents, well, that’s a bit more complicated, but overall, okayish.

Maybe it’s just that I don’t know what to do next. Or what is coming next. Erika will be 21 in just a few weeks, and Cyrus is already 15. I’m not here saying that raising kids was my life’s mission, but that has been my sole focus for 15 years. I question my parenting daily. My goal has always been to not screw them up too bad. Or at least, let them know I love them even though I’m not good with words (I know, right?) and I’m definitely not good with physical affection.

I have spent the majority of my life trying to be good. Most times I have tried to be the best. In sports, and more tangible pursuits, those are so easy to measure. Did I run faster? Did I score more points?

For the things that really matter, though, what’s the measurement? Am I a good and loving daughter? Am I a caring and supportive partner? Am I the parent my kids can come to with anything and feel safe? I know I’m not a great friend because I’ve lost touch with almost everyone. Maybe that’s how it is as you get older. Maybe that’s just how I am. Maybe all of you are out there doing a much better job at all of it.

Maybe our new neighbor has just caught me wiping tears from across our backyards and asked if I’m doing alright. I said I was good. He lingered, then made the sign of the cross at me, like a priest. “God bless,” he said.